All the passages below are taken from
Xavier Amador’s book, “I’m Right, You’re Wrong, Now What?” published in
2008.

It wasn't too long ago that, in the heat
of a highly charged moment, I almost failed to practice what I preach. Luckily,
I was able to catch myself and save the situation from deteriorating beyond
repair.

What happened was this. My mother was in
the intensive care unit of a hospital in another state halfway across the
country, and I was trying to learn everything I could about her condition and
treatment so I could be certain everything she needed was being done. I'd
already called the hospital and asked that the entire contents of her chart be
faxed to me. Legally, I was entitled to this information because I had my
mother's medical power of attorney, and the fax arrived in due course. When I
went through the records, however, I discovered that two days' worth of crucial
progress notes were missing, so I called again to ask that the missing portion
be faxed to me.

This time I spoke to a nurse on the ICU.
I introduced myself using my "doctor" title, explained the situation, and asked
her to fax me the notes. Her immediate response was that the HIPAA (Health
Insurance Portability and Accountability Act) regulations did not allow her to
do that, and, what is more, that whoever had sent me the previous fax had no
right to have done it. Being a doctor, I should have known better and was wrong
to even ask.

My instinctive reaction was to become
angry and arrogant. "I sat on
the medical review committee at Columbia University. I know all about HIPAA, and
you're wrong. You can fax the information to me because I have my mother's
medical power of attorney." In that one thoughtless moment I made three
mistakes. I told the nurse, in effect, that she was stupid; I told her I was
more expert than she; and I allowed my anger to blind me to everything I
knew about how I should be handling the situation. My feeling brain had
overcome my thinking brain, which had apparently fallen asleep at the wheel,
and things started to go downhill fast.

"I've just gone through this with another
patient," she said, "and our HIPAA officer told me I never should have done it."
Now she was pulling in her own expert to counter my claim that I was more expert
than she. She was defensive, her voice was becoming shrill, and the argument was
escalating. "Whoever faxed you those notes was wrong,” she went on. "Who did
it?"

At that point we were no longer arguing
about my mother's medical chart, and the nurse was actually asking me to rat on
my source. I had made her more defensive than she was originally, and I could
see that we'd reached an impasse. I wasn't getting anything from this woman,
certainly not what I needed.
It wouldn't do me any good to curse her out, which is where I was headed, and if
I hung up on her, I'd never get those records. In fact, she might make things
more difficult for me in the future if she decided to put a note in the chart
saying that I'd been abusive to her on the phone.

So I took a deep breath and started
again, with an apology. "I'm really sorry," I said, honestly feeling bad about
how quickly the argument had escalated even though I was not yet feeling much
empathy for her experience. "So, as I understand it, the problem you have is
that your hands are tied. You’ve been told by your HIPPA officer that you can't
do this. You did it once before and you got in trouble for it. That's your
predicament, right?"

"Yes. That's exactly the problem," she
answered, now sounding more nervous than angry.

"If I were you, I would be nervous about
faxing anything ever again," I said, taking a stab at empathy and normalizing
her reaction making a connection between us.

"Well, I'm far from comfortable," she
admitted.

Once she could hear that I was
listening to her, she let slip another feeling that had been hidden by
her anger--anxiety. When I realized she was anxious, I actually started to feel
a little genuine empathy and said, "Then this must be very
frustrating for you." Even I was amazed by how quickly her tone softened. "Yes,"
she said. "It certainly is,"

Well, I'm just trying to help my mother,
which is, I'm sure, what you want to do, too." Since she was a nurse, I had to
assume that she really did care about her patients, so we could agree
that we had caring for my mother in common.

Then, without waiting for her response, I
asked, "What would you do if you were in my shoes? Do you have any suggestions?"
By asking her opinion, I was ceding power to her instead of trying to
strong-arm her into submission, and I was asking her to find a way to partner
with me in our common quest to do what was best for my mother. By listening,
empathizing, and staking out an area of agreement I had transformed our
interaction from that of two bulls locking horns to that of a cowboy on
horseback herding the wayward bull back home.

"What would you do if you were in my
shoes? Do you have any suggestions?" By asking her opinion, I was ceding power
to her instead of trying to strong-arm her into submission, and I was asking her
to find a way to partner with me.

She was silent for a
moment, and I could tell that she, too, was stepping back and calming down. Then
she said, "You know what, let me look through the chart and see what's in there
for those two days."

And at that
point, without my asking, she started reading out loud from the chart. She spent
the next fifteen minutes reading me word for word exactly what was written for
the two missing days. There were, in fact, some surprising and alarming details
about what had happened during this time that concerned us both. At the end of
the conversation she also gave me the direct-dial number of the HIPPA officer
and suggested I call him directly. She volunteered the pager numbers of two
doctors I'd been unable to reach by phone, told me what time they'd be doing
rounds again, and promised to have a doctor call me as soon as they were
finished--a promise she kept. When I hung up the phone I had a smile on my face
and warm, positive feelings for this woman. I am sure she sensed that shift
in my feelings about her soon after I broke the "I'm right, you're wrong" cycle
and began to use LEAP because she ended the call by saying, "Feel free to call
me back if there's anything I can do."

Notice that when the argument began what
I thought I needed was a fax. And when the nurse told me she couldn't send it
(which, incidentally, is not true--see, I still think I was right and she was
wrong!), I got so angry I became fixated on making her send it to me. Not only
would I never have been able to do that, but once I took a step back and cooled
off I was able to see it wasn't really the fax I needed at all--it was the
information in my mother's chart. Sure, I wanted the fax, but what I needed was
to learn what was written on the missing pages. If I hadn't been able to get
my own anger under control, I'd never have been able to diffuse hers or create
the relationship with her that ultimately allowed her to want to find a way to
help me get what I needed. I needed information and what I ultimately
realized was that it made no difference whether I received it via fax, letter,
telephone, telegraph, or smoke signals. In the end, that nurse and I became
partners with the common goal of finding a way to help my mother.

This particular exchange took place in a
medical context. I'm a doctor, I was talking to a nurse, and we were arguing
about my mother's medical records. But the same kind of exchange might just as
easily occur between you and a store clerk or an airline ticket agent. Maybe you
want a cash refund for a sweater you received as a gift but you don't have the
receipt, so the clerk can only issue a store credit. Screaming that it's a gift
and the clerk is an idiot will not, I guarantee you, get you your money back. In
fact, all you'll get is elevated blood pressure and an entrenched adversary. But
if you acknowledge that the clerk has to follow store policy, you will allow him
to be right and open the door to his finding a way to get you what you
need--because he will want to. Or maybe you need to convince the ticket agent
not to bump you from an overbooked flight for which you are holding a confirmed
reservation. Banging on the counter and letting her know about the meeting in
Chicago that can't possibly take place without you isn't going to cut it. But
commiserating with her dilemma and asking her what she would do in your place
might just get her to find you a seat in business class.

Take the
Temperature of the Argument

When you're
seeing red, the fire in your eyes blinds you to everything else. In addition,
your ears are probably ringing so you can't even hear what the other person is
saying. And the same, I assure you, is true for the person with whom you are
arguing. Getting what you need, therefore, depends, first of all, on knowing
when you or the other person is getting too angry or defensive.

You may not always be in the position to
pick and choose just the right moment to argue. What you need to be aware of,
then, is when the argument is getting too overheated so you can take a time-out,
even if it's only a few seconds, and give the person you’re arguing with time to
do the same.

A well-placed apology can give you and
the person you're arguing with time to stop and think about the direction things
are going.

In my conversation with the nurse it
really didn't take very long, once I saw the warning signs. When I caught myself
pulling rank and found myself thinking, "What a bitch!" I literally stopped
talking and took a deep breath. Then I quickly apologized, even though I wasn't
feeling apologetic about what I wanted. But, like the well-trained waiter who
apologizes when a mistake has been made without blaming himself or anyone else,
I was sorry that my request had devolved into a toxic argument.

Even if you are not yet feeling remorse
for what you have just said, a well-placed apology--an expression of sorrow that
an impasse has been reached can give you and the person you're arguing with time
to stop and think about the direction things are going. It is also a wav for you
to help the other person save face--which usually eliminates his defensiveness.
Sometimes, however, it can take a while longer for the other person to let go of
his defenses and be ready to hear you, so part of what you need to be doing
at all times is to monitor the temperature of the exchange, which will allow you
to know when he's no longer emotionally deaf, dumb, and blind and will be
receptive to what you have to say.

Know When It's
Too Hot Not to Cool Down

What if you got
into your car, turned the key in the ignition, and saw the bright red
temperature gauge light up on the dash--would you ignore the warning and drive
off anyway? Would you proceed if you also saw steam snaking up from under the
hood? What if the engine started to make loud knocking sounds? Would you still
drive on?

Cars come equipped with thermostats that
constantly monitor engine temperature, because when the motor gets too hot the
engine will soon stop working and serious damage will be done. When the engine
temperature light comes on--one of my brothers, who is a mechanic, calls it the
idiot light because you would have to be an idiot to ignore it--you need to stop
driving, turn off the car, and let the engine cool down. You do this for two
reasons: to prevent further damage and to fix the problem. Fortunately, the
emotional temperature of an argument can also be monitored, and for the same
reasons. But there isn't any idiot light for arguments, so you need to pay
attention to the signals that let you know when you and/or the other person are
overheating. You will know it's time to cool off when:

You

find yourself
interrupting the other person;

don't feel
listened to or heard by the other;

engage in
name-calling, either directly or by implication, letting the other person
know you think he's a liar, stubborn, a fool, a jerk, or all of the above:

bring up issues
that have nothing to do with the argument of the moment (which I call
kitchen-sinking it);

have the
argument in front of other people (in public, in front of children,
employees, and so on).

The other person

interrupts you;

says you're not
listening to him;

calls you names
(as above).

If you're constantly interrupting one
another, neither of you is really interested in listening to the other and
you're certainly not hearing what the other person has to say. What are you
thinking and feeling when someone interrupts you? If you are like most people,
you are still thinking about what you were about to say, not listening, and
you're probably getting irritated. You're getting heated.

If someone tells you, "You're not
listening!" or "No, that's not what I said!" he's right and you're wrong. Maybe
not objectively, but that's the experience he's having, and that's all you have
to work with. Until you
correct his misconception (if he was in fact wrong and you were listening) or do
a better job of listening, he will hold a little grudge against you and not feel
any obligation to listen any further to your arguments. How do you feel when
you're arguing with someone who you think is not listening to you?

If you've sunk so low that you're calling
the other person names, you're communicating, whether you mean to or not, that
you're not remotely interested in hearing anything he might have to say (except,
of course, that you're right). And worse still, you have made the other person
feel defensive, thereby eclipsing anything you say after the insult.

If you've gotten to the point of
reminding him of past petty indiscretions such as, "And last Tuesday you came to
the meeting late ..."--he will probably become even more defensive because he
now feels he has to start defending himself on a whole new battlefront.
Therefore, all you’ll have accomplished is to escalate the skirmish into an
out-and-out war.

When arguments are public we become
more focused on saving face and more sensitive to feeling humiliated. And when
that happens we're unlikely to get what we need.

And if you are having the argument in
front of other people, you will both be more defensive than you would be if you
were going at it one-on-one. When arguments are public we become more focused on
saving face and more sensitive to feeling humiliated. You will also run the
risk of being tempted to draw the witnesses into the argument, a tactic that
almost never works to break an impasse. As soon as you pull in
reinforcements ("Anne, you agree with me, don't you," "I sure do,' Anne
answers), your opponent will pull in his ("Oh yeah? Well, Gary, Ben, and Alex
all agree with me!”). And arguing in front of children is often one of the
most obvious and easily recognized warning signs that the argument has become
too hot.

If one or more of these things is
happening--if you or the other person is interrupting, feeling unheard,
name-calling, kitchen-sinking, or arguing in front of other people--the idiot
light is on, steam is escaping from under the hood, the engine is knocking
loudly, and if you don't stop soon the engine will seize up.

Collateral Damage

When you wage
war in a populated area (and, in the case of toxic arguments, that means in
front of even one other person), innocent bystanders are likely to get hurt.
This is true whether the impasse is between two members of a family, business
partners, friends, or even two strangers. And when that happens, it complicates
the argument and makes the impasse harder to break.

Among the most obvious examples of this
is when parents argue in front of children. Melinda was arguing with Tim about
whether he spent enough time at home. She felt he spent more time than he needed
to at work and that, as a result, the family was being neglected. They were
stuck at an impasse: Melinda argued that Tim didn't need to work on the
weekends, and Tim told her she was wrong and didn't know what she was talking
about. When I spoke with them, they told me their arguments seemed to get
nowhere; they just went round and round. Instead of having a sober discussion
aimed at identifying and satisfying their shared interests, the arguments became
heated and they were stuck. Their last go-around had occurred in front of their
six-year-old son, Dylan, who was sitting at the kitchen counter drawing and "not
listening." Suddenly, at the top of his lungs, Dylan yelled, "Da da, da da, ba
ba mama, da da, ba ba, pow!

Stopping herself in mid-sentence, Melinda
turned to her son and shouted, “Dylan! You're not a baby. Stop talking baby
talk."

Eyebrows raised, Melinda jumped in.
"Don't bother, Tim. I deal with him all week and on weekends, so don't suddenly
try to act like you're a parent!"

"Fine. I won't I'll be at the office,"
Tim retorted, storming out.

In this instance Melinda didn't heed the
warning signs that things were getting too hot (kitchen-sinking and
name-calling), and neither she nor Tim, in the moment, realized that arguing in
front of their son was making matters worse. When I asked them about this later
they both said that Dylan's presence had amplified their reactions. Melinda felt
angrier because she saw him playing alone and having to listen to his parents
argue when she knew he missed his father and would rather have been playing with
him. She blamed Tim for the argument, for being stubborn. Tim felt much more
defensive with his son there. He felt he was answering his wife's challenges
while simultaneously trying to defend himself to his son. It felt more
humiliating. Ironically, Dylan's presence made them both feel less like partners
than if they had been talking alone.

Ask yourself whether arguing in front
of that person made you (or your adversary) feel angrier, defensive, or
humiliated.

After him stormed out Melinda tried to
talk to Dylan about what had happened, but he refused to listen, saving several
times, "I don't want to talk about it" and "You're mean." That night, after
reading his son a bedtime story, Tim apologized to Dylan for having argued in
front of him. Dylan's response was to ask, Why do you make Mommy cry? Later,
when Tim was getting into bed with his wife, he told her what Dylan had said and
Melinda recounted her own failed attempt to talk with him about the argument. At
that point they both realized that whenever either of them tried to talk to him,
Dylan would take the other's side. They understood they had put him in the
middle, and neither of them wanted to do that--this was something they could
agree on.

Think back on the last time you had a
toxic overheated argument in front of a third party. Try to replay the argument
while standing in the bystander's shoes. If the bystander is a coworker, what
did your argument do to his or her morale? Did this person feel he needed to
choose sides? What price was paid? And ask yourself whether arguing in front of
that person made you (or your adversary) feel angrier, defensive, or humiliated.

Wake Up Your
Thinking Brain

Despite the way
it may sound, I am not asking you to instantly stop being angry or frustrated or
to just "get over" whatever other emotion has been driving your behavior. Like
Melinda and Tim, you're human, not a robot, and you probably can't just stop
being angry by throwing a switch. That's why I'm going to give you some tools
for tipping the balance so that your thinking brain can retake control of
your emotional brain. But whether or not you are immediately successful at
using these strategies, whether or not you calm down, you can still change how
you act in response to your emotions so you avoid the very common mistakes that
cause people to throw fuel on the fire instead of dousing the flames. And, as
you change your behavior by acting as if you were less angry, you’ll discover
that your anger will usually diminish all on its own.

Stop, Look, and Listen:
When you're angry, stop, look at the other person, and listen to see if he is
angry, too. What you do next can either throw fuel on the fire and take you
further from what you want, or it can lower both your temperatures so you are
able to find common ground.

At this point you might be thinking,
"Okay, maybe I can control how I react to my own emotional state, but I have no
control over the other person's reactions." In fact you do. And, perhaps most
interesting of all, you’ll discover that as you act less angry and more
interested in the other person's point of view, her anger will also diminish.
The effect is synergistic. So as much as you might want to push that other
persons buttons--and you certainly will--what you need to do is bite your
tongue, swallow those incendiary words, and get curious about her perspective.

Throw Water on
the Fire

Contrary to
what you may be thinking, it's not really so difficult to diffuse another
person's anger. Law enforcement officers who are specially trained members of
Crisis Intervention Teams (CITs) do it all the time when they walk into an
unknown situation and a perfect stranger is ranting and raving. In contrast to
the majority of police officers, those who are CIT-trained are taught to put
out their hands, palms up, and say, "Tell me what's going on here." That's it.
No "Calm down, buddy, no "Hands on your head," just "Tell me what's going on."
By saving that, what they’re actually conveying is, "I'm here to listen and I
want to know your point of view." That's really what most people want; they want
to know you're listening to them and considering their point of view. And once
they feel that you are, it's very hard for them to feel angry or defensive.

Notice I didn't say “agreeing with" their
point of view; by considering it, however, you’re showing them respect--you are
honoring it. Think about how you feel when you’re not being listened to or when
you think your point of view is being insulted. If you're like me, you get angry
and stop listening.

Turn Down the
Heat

When your
biological alarm system goes off, your nervous system goes on automatic. But
if you can use your thinking brain long enough, you can shut down the feeling
brain and regain control. You already have your own strategies for calming
yourself down when you're overheated. We all do. But I'm going to give you three
more. Since I am a confessed acronym addict--acronyms help me to memorize
things I want to remember--here is another one.

When you get sucked into an impasse and
are angry, I want you to take a gamble on doing things differently and BET:

Breathe

Exit

Think

Breathe:
When your amygdala takes control of your brain chemistry, your breathing is
shallow and fast. As it turns out, however, simply taking deep, slow breaths
and exhaling fully (you may have learned this in your birthing classes if
you've had a baby) will activate the inhibitory circuits that return your
neural chemistry to a calmer state, removing the tunnel vision and allowing you
to see the bigger picture.

When you feel frustrated and locked into
wanting your adversary to wave the white flag or he is accusing you of being
wrong, remember to take deep, slow breaths from your abdomen and exhale fully.
Take just three and you will find it helps. The other person won't even know you
are doing it because he too will be seeing red. Try it and see if you feel any
different. What do you have to lose?

Exit:
Next, you need to get out of the situation that has triggered your brain's alarm
system. You need to figuratively, and sometimes literally, walk away from the
impasse. But like most things having to do with human relations, how
you do this also makes a big difference. When Tim stormed out of the kitchen
during his argument with Melinda, he made her angrier, not calmer. And because
his exit followed immediately upon Melinda's accusing him of being a bad parent,
he stewed rather than cooled down.

Walking away figuratively rather than
literally is usually easier, but you have to have enough presence of mind to
pull it off. The example I gave of the waiter who apologized and took a new
order is an example of what I am talking about. The potential impasse she
avoided had started with her customer's telling her she'd made a mistake. The
server believed she was right, but rather than return the volley with, "No. I
got the order right," she took the nearest exit. She apologized and said, in
effect, let's fix this.

Sometimes, when we are too angry, we
can't think of the words that will lead to that exit, or, even if we do, the
other person is not making it easy for us to leave the impasse. What then?
Sometimes we simply have to literally walk away or hang up the phone. Of course,
if you slam the door on your way out or slam down the receiver, you will only
make things worse. What you need to do instead is give fair warning, or,
better yet, if you are already breathing more slowly and have the presence of
mind, ask permission by saying something like, "Would you mind if we finish this
later?" Asking permission to finish the argument later is a powerful tool
because you are giving the other person a moment of control. When you say
something like, "if it's okay with you, I would like to stop talking right now
and finish this later because I want to calm down," you are asking for a favor
and admitting to being overheated and not at your best. This creates a
connection between you and the person you are fighting with. At the very least,
the person bestowing the favor will feel "one up”--gain the dignity that comes
from being the one who bestows the favor which will reduce his anger and
defensiveness. It is yet another way to help someone save face.

Asking permission to finish the
argument later is a powerful tool because you are giving the other person a
moment of control.

Although I have found this strategy to be
extremely effective, the other person might not yet be willing to do you a
favor. If the response you get to your request is, "No, I want to finish this
right now!" you might have to go a step further. First of all, don't take the
bait, because, in that moment, you will both be too angry to get anything
accomplished. Remember, the whole point of this strategy is to place some
distance between you and the trigger that's firing up your feeling brain so you
will be able to calm down and use the tools you are now acquiring to get what
you need. What you should do, therefore, is apologize and end the conversation
(if only for two minutes, as in, "I will call you right back"}.

If you're arguing with someone you are
close to, you can say, "I'm sorry, I have to calm down, but I promise I'll
finish this later." By doing that, you are not blaming the other person; rather,
you are letting him know you are the one who needs to calm down and you are
asking his permission to come back to the issue later. If it is a stranger or
business associate, such self-disclosure might be awkward, in which case you can
make an excuse. If you're on the phone you can say, "I am sorry, I have another
call I have to take. Can I call you right back? If the impasse is face-to-face,
simply say, There's an important call I have to make. Can I come back in a
moment and finish this?" And if that feels too dishonest, let me suggest that
you do, indeed, have a very important call to make--you need to call upon your
frontal lobes!

Just remember always to follow the excuse
with an assurance that you will get right back to the person and finish the
argument.

Think:
This is the easiest of the three BET tactics, and you may find that it's the one
you use first. To see how it works, picture yourself following a narrow path
through the woods. Right in front of you is a towering brick wall you keep
walking into like a mindless windup toy. Each time you take a few steps forward,
you slam into the wall, bounce back, march forward, again hit the wall, bounce
back, and start forward again. See it in your mind's eye. What does this image
say to you? It's telling you that you are not making any headway and that, no
matter how many times you try, you are powerless to move forward. When you see
that simple truth, it will be far easier to breathe and exit the impasse.

Winning is not about hearing the other
person say, "You're right." It's about getting him to agree to act in ways that
get you what you really need, even when he doesn't agree with you.

A final word. Don't fret if, after
reading this chapter, you still fall into the tunnel-vision trap. It's a natural
reflex. You can't help it any more than I or anyone else. All you can do is get
better at knowing when it happens--noticing when the warning light flashes so
you can stop, take a short step back, and ask yourself, "What's the big picture
here? What is it I really need?" Do you want your kid to agree that vegetables
are good for him or do you want him to eat his vegetables? Do you want the
plumber to admit he installed your dishwasher wrong or do you want your
dishwasher fixed? Do you want to make the sale or have your customer agree with
you that the competition's product is inferior? Do you want your boss to
acknowledge you're the most talented member of the team--not that this wouldn't
be nice--or do you want a raise and more vacation time? I think you get the
point.

What you ought to be doing instead of
focusing myopically on your rightness is to stop hitting your head against the
brick wall like some mindless windup toy or primitive reptile, step back, and
identify your real goal.
Winning is not about hearing the other person say, "You're right." It's about
getting him to agree to act in ways that get you what you really need, even when
he doesn't agree with you. In those terms, it becomes clear that whether he ever
agrees with you is totally immaterial. In fact, getting stuck on hearing "You're
right is one of the surest ways there is to turn an argument into a toxic power
struggle that results in a broken relationship and no one's winning anything.

Remember the
Reason You're Doing This

I'm not a
saint, and I don't expect you to be one either. I was really angry when I was
talking to that nurse, but I was also aware that I needed something from
her--something that was important to me. And because I needed something, I
needed to create a positive working relationship with her, at least for the
length of that phone call. What I did was totally pragmatic. I didn't think to
myself, "Xavier, stop being angry." What I did was take a couple of deep breaths
and think, "Xavier, wait a minute, you need something from this woman and if you
keep this up, you're never going to get it.”

If I hadn't needed anything, I may have
given in to my basest instincts and at least had the momentary satisfaction of
cursing her out and hanging up on her--which is more or less exactly what I did
when someone stole my parking space a few weeks ago. I'd pulled up to the car in
front of the space and was backing in when a guy in a much smaller car snuck up
behind me and moved into my space going forward. I got out of my car, motioned
for him to roll down his window so we could talk--which he refused to do--and
proceeded to shout so he could hear, "Hey, that was my spot! I was here first."
At that point, the other guy made a classic rude gesture, which I returned,
along with a few well-chosen insults. In that situation I took the bait and
responded in kind. I suppose not much was lost in that interaction because I
probably wasn't going to get my space back no matter what I said. But I do think
I missed an opportunity to try, even though the odds were against me. I know for
sure I lost the next fifteen minutes or so consumed in anger.

The point here is that LEAP isn't
something you're going to be engaging in just because you can or because you
want to be considered for sainthood. It's a method you’ll be using because
you’ve got your eve on the prize, so to speak, and this is a way for you to get
what you need. And what you need may be more than a concession from the person
on the other side of the argument. It may also be feeling good about yourself
and being able to let go of a disagreement you just had with someone. If you can
keep that in mind, it might just help you to BET on your ability to act more
like the great persuader and less like the Hulk. [57-73]